


The Impossible isn't always improbable.

by SlySama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Being "Somewhat" Dominated kink, Contracts, Extremely Dubious Consent, Frustrated Harry Potter, Large Cock, Life-Affirming Sex, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Old Interest respark, Post-Hogwarts, Post-Second War with Voldemort, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, to Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:06:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22662205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: WIP.Chapters to be added.A raven was going through his new life as well as could be, partnered with a Dragon who wanted to date a Princess when he suddenly runs into a hummingbird.Not very good at Summaries. You all know this.But this might be a slightly better summary? Two unlikely friends start a business together, they've all been through the roughest childhoods but these two MOSTLY understand each other. They're all a little banged up, some of them have a new moral compass, other's take medication.Everything is spectacular until the raven hero suddenly starts see "Unnatural" even for the unnatural in the wizarding world.
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter.

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any affliated characters.**

**Chapter One.**

**Hard earned Ice Cream.**

  
Harry was walking down the main cobbled street of a new and improved Diagon Alley on his hour lunch break, eyes wandering from storefront to cluttered storefront, his tongue dragging over the sweet ice treat in his gripping palm when he suddenly stumbled backwards, almost like he'd knocked into something solid only when he looked up to the body attached to the hand that had reached out for the prevention of smacking his ass painfully on the roughly cobbled street, he choked, eyes widening, his ice cream dropped from his fingers to splatter anguishly on the ground between his tattered trainers. 

The solidness was in fact, not solid. At all. 

Rapidly flickering his eyelids and swinging his head from side to side, wandering frantically if anyone else could see the apparition before him, "Sir?" He wasn't sure if the question had in fact slipped passed his frozen vocal chords but it might have become a whisper if it had. 

The floating, transparent apparition seemed to stare in , like anguish; perhaps he hadn't expected to be walked into or in fact seen? 

"Why?" "How?" "This is real?" They were all whispers. 

It had been 6 long years since the Second Wizarding War had come to a final close, that it had ended at the Battle of Hogwarts, that the apparition before him had been exonerated of all crimes, given a Second Class Order of Merlin whilst being sanctioned as MIA, and then officially been deemed dead. 

The bravest man Harry had ever known hadn't been where Harry had eventually remembered he had left his body; Harry had sustained some rather...Impressive head injuries. He hadn't even remembered how he'd destroyed Old Snake-face either, that had come another year later, angrily on his Twentieth Birthday; it had not been a pleasant evening. 

His hands still shook from the magic he had used to prevent such chaos being continued, the damage had been extensive to his nerve-endings. 

Everyone had found this strange but then...Maybe the man hadn't died? 

Though for the life of him and his sanity, Harry couldn't place then what this was before him that no body else seemed to see. Everyone probably thought he was strange, freezing in the middle of the street as he had. The man was not a Ghost, but he wasn't solid either. 

Harry was still staring, unsure if he was expecting a reply when the apparition suddenly dematerialised, like a swoosh of misplaced air at a shout echoing behind the raven. Turning, annoyed and frustrated, quickly becoming now confused, he breathed one word. "Malfoy?" 

The other male skidded to a stop and seemed to pout before straightening his attire and flattening his out of place strands of blonde before even beginning to speak, he even glared briefly at a wandering eyed youth blatantly staring. "Draco, Potter. It's Draco, remember?" 

Harry nodded, lifting his shoulders and dropping them as he pursed his lips. "Ha-rr-y." He watched, in satisfaction when the blonde rolled his eyes and sighed huffily. 

"Yes yes, we do work together. I suppose...Granger's right in that for us to properly work together we need to start calling each other by first names." Harry simply stared. Yes, because that would be why he'd call him Draco. That must have hurt though. It wasn't the first time he'd admitted Hermione might be right about something but he definitely tried not to do it often. 

They hadn't been in business together long, two years and 6 months, so there wasn't any real rush to be on a first name basis but he supposed they'd been friendly since the Malfoy heir and Lady had firmly and formally switched allegencies during the War. 

Lucius had been killed by Voldemort due to not handing over his son for a concubine of the Snake-face pervert. But that was neither here nor there now; Draco firmly believed to think it never happened. 

"So?" Harry asked, wondering why the blonde was in Diagon Alley and not in their office with their staff where he should have been. 

"So, what?" The blonde stated, confused. 

"Precisely. What are you doing here? And not at the office? This is my lunch break, remember? You've had yours to-day..." If he sounded a little sour it was because the blonde had been on a date with one of his best friends, and he wasn't sure if he approved or didn't. 

He was thinking it over, he was also a little sour because he was 23 and he was still woefully a virgin and completely incapable of dating human beings; despite being endlessly annoyed by it, his friends kept trying to set him up on blind dates, and everyone of them seemed to fail; he wanted to say something noble and say it was entirely to do with own shortcomings but he wasn't sure it was, not entirely at least. 

"Oh, that." 

Harry grumbled inside, ' Yes that, you twit.' 

"Lunch breaks over I'm afraid. We need you at the office since that Moron has returned and won't leave." He scowled and Harry felt for sure he'd heard a whine on the end of that sentence.

The raven sighed, stared morosely down at his ice cream cone and then spun on a heel to apparate back to Lumen Alley. 


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two.**

**An Owl is Wise and Cunning.**

The Office wasn't small but it wasn't large in any sense either, no one saw any need for excess space that no one was going to use. The walls were a matte grey with the trimmings and door frames in solid redwood. The Windows were bay and the door leading onto a 'Smoking Zone' for those with the horrible bad habit were French; the decking and fencing were the same redwood from inside and the light fixtures were high and practical in a desk space that had constant movement. 

The floors below were all in varying states from a potions laboratory to a library for our Researchers to a padded interior for those pesky Cursebreakers that couldn't help but destroy one thing or another a few times a week. Draco was constantly grumbling about having to repad the entire bottom level room and how much it cost to do so and ignored everything Harry ever said about ignoring it. 

Harry was in fact a Cursebreaker on the bottom level, where Draco did all the bookkeeping and handed the potions side of Owl Industries. A venture come about by the both of them wanting to help rebuild the Wizarding World to some degree; they were a company that was hired to help with restoring buildings, building new Alleys, Uncursing building sites and the everyday issues that came with having went through a 2nd great war for their world. 

They did well, despite being a very fresh company. 

"Hello Mister Baxter, what is it you wish for to-day?" Harry's voice was polite and welcome if slightly condescending as he stood at the door frame with his hand on Draco's chest behind him. He could hear the grind of teeth but he wasn't sure which were louder, the blonde or the annoying brunette before him that had turned angrily at Harry's interruption of what presumably was supposed to be a good telling off to a young desk employee that looked stricken. 

"Now see here, Mister Potter, this good for nothing--" 

"RIGHT. I'll stop you there Mister Baxter, sir, but there will be no insulting of our new employees. I'm sure he was doing his job accurately, we do have a very strict screening system, so if you'll follow me Sir." Harry stepped forward, placed a hand on the man's lower back and steered him very gently but firmly toward the CEO office. His other hand waved behind him toward the disgruntled youth gaping like an out of water fish, his pretty eyes incredulously wide. 

Draco took the hint, making a beeline for the new office nut. He'd leave Mister obnoxious and annoying to Potter because somehow when they left the office that man was polite, considerate and at least took a week to come back; he had no idea what Potter did to the disgruntled customers, not that there were many of course, but it worked and he'd rather that and not know than know and have Potter stop because it was potentially borderline under Ministry bylaws; if he didn't say anything to the raven then Potter wouldn't question himself. 

He was having a pretty decent conversation when,   
"Right, yes of course Mister Baxter, yes, you go and enjoy yourself sir. Let loose, as they say. Bon voyage." There were a few pat pats on the thicker man's shoulder blades and then a giant heaving sigh from Potter as the problem was resolved. "What?" 

"Oh nothing, simply curious but I won't ask. Coffee?" 

"Of course. You owe me for that." A finger pointed back to the big office. "A few treats from the Sweetshop wouldn't go amiss either. I have to set up a holiday for that man to get him off our backs for a few weeks, one I would have loved to go on myself if I had the time but since I do NOT." His voice rose a little. 

"Yes yes. Sweets are on their way, coffee full of the same five sugars following quickly in their lead heading down to your basement. I thank you oh glorious Lord Potter, our miraculous and oh mighty Saviour. Please take these humble offerings." He bowed mockingly, a quirk of amusement changing his features. 

The raven stared in equal amusement with a well added flush of embarrassment for the display in front of their employees that were trying not to laugh. "Oh shut up." He attempted a glare, failed miserably and simply backed out, waving himself to the elevators and his 'Basement'. 

He laughed when he got there, just once, a bark really when the aforementioned items were there on his simple work bench, ready to be consumed with a simple card of thank you. Sometimes, he thought the blonde had several different personalities. 

But the partnership worked. Really well. 

The raven got down to business; he had a few left over things he needed to make sure we're no longer cursed and then he needed to ward them, and ship them carefully back to their owners and then he needed to head up to the library and ask the researchers if there were any reading materials on humans that dematerialised like a wisp of displaced air. 


	3. Chapter Three.

**Chapter Three.**

**A Night among the Maze.**

The Library was a cluttered and scattered affair with winding mazes of towered books in varying states of tattered and well-kept, the floor barely visible beneath well-worn trainers as they echoed through the cavernous room searching beyond the large doors for the main desk and the information worker. 

"Can I help you Boss P?" 

Emerald eyes flickered beyond golden frames and wayward black strands of overgrown hair as suddenly, there they were. 

"Harry. I was hoping l might be able to find something in one of your many books about--" Harry went off in a rant about what he was looking for, arms gestculating and a few well placed and disorganised hello's when researchers stumbled passed. "So, is there anything like that?" He finished. 

The desk worker blinked, stared down at a flat screen woven into his very desk and then pointed upwards. "Level 5 of the Library Sir, section 379, subsection 005, you'll find you'll have to climb the ladder, third shelf along at the very top, we have one book on Sylphs. I hope you find what you're looking for Boss. Please, try not to get lost, if this occurs please press this red button and I'll send someone in to get you. Here you are, take this." 

Harry was still trying to process the information and dutifully took the proffered device and tucked it in a breast pocket of his coat. "Um, thank you?" He was a bit flustered when the man steered him with a wave of his hand to the right, Harry's left. This way took him to the library lifts; he had no idea that when the place had been built it was practically swimming in extension charms. 

It was like a whole 'nother world in the Library. A confusing one. He may or may not have just gotten completely lost. He was standing in the middle of a book stacked hallway, with entrances on every side of him and he had no idea which one he was supposed to take. It was like the Department of Mysteries only with book hallways. He was just thinking about whipping out this weird device in his pocket when someone stumbled by. "Wait wait wait." The words were borderline frantic as he grabbed quickly onto the bedraggled looking youth. There was owlish blinking; had this kid even slept in days? 

"Where do I go to find section 379?" 

The teen gave him an odd look and pointed to the floor in which was barely visible. The raven stared down, blinking furiously. Huh? OH. A bubbling laughter tried to form before he choked it down, he was in it. Right, okay. "Subsection 005 then?" 

"Down the bookway all trimmed in blue. About halfway, stop and climb the ladder and whatever you're looking for is on those shelves. Can I go sir? I really really need that coffee from the kiosk." 

There was a kiosk in here? Harry blinked, let go and simply nodded hurriedly, watching as the man stumbled away, almost drunkenly down another 'Bookway'. 

"Halfway, halfway..." Harry's head went up, turned left, turned right and then stopped back in front where he was standing sideways in the middle of a bookway trimmed in blue. "Reckon this might be about halfway, okay, now where's this ladder?" He was talking out loud because it was unbearably quiet in here and it was driving him a bit batty to listen to it and the barely there echo of pages of thomes being turned very carefully. 

...There's no ladder. 

"Where's the ladder?!" His voice echoed as a bit of screech as his hands rose to grip chunks of his dark mass of hair. A scramble occurred overhead and a thunk, followed by a "Damn it!", followed by a scrape and another thunk had a very solid ladder thudding before his curled back toes. His eyes were wide and his heart thudded momentarily harsh in his chest; that was a bit close for comfort, he could imagine how his feet would have been irrevocably crushed if he hadn't hurriedly stepped back. 

He began the climb and crawled to his feet, and froze at the dreadlocked tanned and fit man crawling to his, nursing what was obviously a sore head; Harry's eyes wandered upwards where a book was missing from a cluttered and completely filled bookcase. The book was sprawled and opened to a very illustrated picture of a beautiful figure in a pale costume that looked equally beautiful and fashioned from silk, or cloud. 

His eyes wandered up again, going through the directions of the information guy and then back down to the sprawled thome. Reaching down to collect the book he heaved at the unexpected heaviness and gladly dropped it onto a small lamplit desk a few steps to his left. 

It was the only Slyph book they possessed. 

It was the book he was here for. 

And it had fallen onto this young man's head; they were all pretty young here, some just out of Hogwarts. They made it a point to only consult with older fellows working in architecture. 

"Sorry, Sir." 

"Hm?" Harry was already pulling up a chair and lifting the cover of the book. "Sorry for what?" He said absentmindedly. 

"Dropping the book, Sir." 

"It fell didn't it? Don't have much in the way of blame for a misplaced book on a shelf, do you?" He questioned secondly, a finger thumbing the first page which was a compendium. 

"...Um, I suppose not." He sounded awkward. 

"Well then, no apologies needed. Unless of course you're also referring to the misplaced ladder in which case you are forgiven but perhaps you should leave the ladder where it belongs?" He was flicking through the first few pages, eyes absently scanning the text and detailed imagery thereon, his butt now firmly on the slightly uncomfortable desk chair. 

"...Right, yes, of course." Silence descended after this and it wasn't until Harry was wondering what time it was; as he was hungry, why the lights had suddenly dimmed very low and if he could take the large, insightful and very freaking heavy book back to his house, that he looked up and realised that the other man was now gone. 

"Oh." His face contorted. His hand dug into his coat pocket, after checking the time, extracting the red buttoned device and his finger pushed it before he could stop himself in embarrassment. He waited. 

And waited.

And continued to wait, having jabbed the little red buttoned device several times now before realising if he couldn't find his way out himself, he was going to have to wait until morning; when everyone arrived back at work. 

It was midnight. 

He'd been reading well into the night, and nobody had realised. He had no idea when dreadlocks had left or if he'd tried to get Harry's attentions before doing so. "Damn it!" He echoed the man's words as if he was the one being hit over the head with a large book. 

He rather felt he should be, for being so careless. 


	4. Chapter Four.

**Chapter Four.**

**A Raven's frustrations, can be a dangerous thing.**

When morning arrived one boss of Owl Industries was bedraggled, smelling a bit like a 300 year old book and covered in a thick layer of dust that he was still trying to scourgify out of his messy hair when his S.O.S was finally seen and he was rescued, feeling that his face was beet red from extreme embarrassment; since he'd gotten lost, in a sense, and had slept at work. 

He also may or may not have a permanent imprint of text on his cheek from having fallen asleep midway through reading what, if he recalled hard enough through a thick layer of fog, was presumably an important page.

"...Soooo..." Draco's voice dragged as Harry sipped greedily from his favourite coffee mug inside their C.E.O Office. "What's so important about this...Book of yours that you risked getting lost downstairs, caused you to miss a blind date and caused you to sleep here last night?" He was sitting on the edge of the desk, his tight grey slacks bunching at his crotch and riding up to reveal a few inches of his thin ankle. 

Harry blinked owlishly, then dragged his eyes back to the swirling contents of his coffee mug; unaware he'd been twirling the porcelain. He needed more caffeine. "What?" He voiced, voice hollow. 

Draco's manicured nail pointed at the large book that sat in the middle of hundreds of papers that sat scattered here, on the mahogany; a sigh echoed. "The book Potter, what's so important about it?" 

"...Nothing. Absolutely nothing, but I think it explains the apparition I saw. Although...I'm not sure it answers how or for that matter why." He stressed the two words as he chewed the inside of his cheek. 

"Come again? What apparition is this?" The blonde's voice had rose slightly, probably concerned about his partners mental health and further and probably more likely the welfare of the business. 

Harry thought a moment before speaking slowly, "The one in Diagon Alley, yesterday." He bit his lip when his eyes met worried grey. "Don't look at me like that, I am perfectly fine thank you, and I am taking my meds Draco, relax. It wasn't just some...Apparition, it was a Slyph." The "I think." Was whispered but no less heard for it. 

"A Slyph?!" Harry flinched at the blonde's screech. "Harry that isn't any better! What the fuck in Seven Hells is a Slyph doing showing itself to you?!" 

"I don't know." He blinked, brow drawing down. "Why, is that bad?" The text imprinted on his cheek, he thought, might have had the reason why Draco's voice rose so much and why he was suddenly leaning forward intently with a glint in his eye of some origin and practically hissing, 

"They don't just do that." "What did you do?" 

"I didn't do anything, Draco." His voice was filled with annoyance now. 

"Then I don't get it." 

"Neither do I." He shrugged, draining the rest of his caffeine and sugar. He wished he did and that he could get back to the book at his elbow but this was the end of the conversation, and his free time as a few staff members barged in saying something about a breach of security wards as their were Ministry Aurors invading and one or five of their trained specialists currently being arrested. 

Their eyes met, green to grey before both bolted to their feet and hurried down to the lower levels. Why the fuck was the Ministry arresting their employees?! They weren't doing anything illegal! So far as they knew. 

■□■

They weren't but it had taken them considerable time and days to get their employees back from the Ministry's grubby hands and holding cells. It had cost them too, Harry was just about ready to throw his Sylph book at the annoying twit that wouldn't stop raging about the cost; that wasn't even taking into account the rants about their pride, or their reputation. 

"Draco. Draco. DRACO." His voice rose as a smack resounded around the interior of the office. The raven heaved as the blonde froze mid-tirade and mid-pace, half turning to spy the wobbling sturdy desk and Harry gritting his teeth as almighty vibrations sang through his hand and up his arm. That had hurt. "Ow." 

"That was stupid..." 

"Shut up." He scowled. "Go to lunch or something, get out of the office, meet Hermione, discuss your love life, complain about mine, or lack thereof." 'That's what you usually do isn't it?' He thought.

"Do something, I don't care, just get out of the office, relax." 'Get out of my space, so I can relax.' Harry made shooing motions and even went so far as to push the blonde all the way to the elevators, jab the button for him, and push him through. Only then, did the raven heave a relieved sigh and head back to the CEO office and the mountain of tedious paperwork that he had somehow promised Malfoy he would do, for him. 

The book lay forgotten, gathering dust particles that floated about the office, tucked into a spare bit of bookshelf among the wall length bookcases; the researchers hadn't asked for it back yet, and Harry'd been meaning to read it but by the time he had free time to do so, it was weeks later. 

He'd run into the 'Slyph' several more times those past few weeks with each and every occasion having had something get in the way of having a decent even minute conversation. This annoyed him, so he was a bit tetchy at work; his coworkers and their employees had all stopped attempting decent conversation, or in fact conversation at all. 

So had Draco, having not deemed to come to work the last week because Harry's prior urge had won out and he'd tossed the large thome at the blonde's head. 

Thankfully, the blonde wasn't unconscious in some ditch somewhere after he'd stormed out of the office in a huff, rubbing the spot and swearing to the heavens, so Hermione gratefully informed him with reprimands to 'Not throw books at people, Harry, you just don't', in several differing ways, his ears had permanently turned red in shame. 

He was at home right this minute, scrubbing the hottness from another telling off, this one about his apalling attitude from Molly Weasley, sitting on the edge of his warn couch when he jumped, 

"They're right, you realise, your attitude has just been absolutely appalling." "Did you have any idea how much that book weighed before you threw it?" "Or even think before you spoke to the Weasley Matriarch yesterday evening?" "If I had any way to do so, you'd receive a good well deserved spank." 

"What?" He choked. "Wait." He blinked. "How'd you get in here?!" 

The apparition blinked lazily and waved airily at billowing curtains. "Your window is open, how else? You really ought to peer more closely at your own home. It has several flaws in its warding." 

Harry gaped, completely lost, and completely without words, "...You...Came to my home, somehow finding where I live just to tell me that?!" Harry reacted the instant the apparition started to head back to the window and it's billowing curtains. He was on his feet, his arms spread and his heart thudding as the temperature dropped in the whole house. 

The man turned, "I suppose..." The dark eyes wandered. "Unless your fruitless attempts to approach these past weeks weren't in some vain horrific attempt to speak with me?" 

Harry's eyes wandered. "Why?" "Why couldn't you've done that first." 

"I beg your pardon? You are going to have to be more specific." 

Harry heaved a breath, rubbing his hands together at the sudden crispness of his living room. "Are you doing that?" He said instead.

"Specific." 

"The temperature." Harry pressed, rolling his eyes. "Are you changing the temperature of my living room? If you are could you please stop. It's bloody freezing." And to his word, his breaths were puffs in the air and he was jumping from foot to foot to try and warm his cooling body. 

"Ah. That. You might have to give me a moment, I'm unsure what specifically causes that. Hold on." He frowned, closed his eyes and Harry watched the frustration and embarrassment flit across a face he had never seen these emotions on before. 

"...Hmm, how is this?" 

Harry's eyes flickered several differing ways and then his head tilted one way and then the other. "It's...Better." The conversations were pretty dead end ones so far as any they'd ever had before. The raven wasn't sure how to approach the subject or if he was, perhaps, simply succumbing to those head injuries Draco feared one day he might, despite the healing and the meds he took daily. "Um...You're alive..." 

The apparition rose an eyebrow, looked down at himself and then spun a few times as if he was making sure of his thoughts, or spontaneously dancing; the last was not something he would have ever associated with the man before him. "...In a way." 

Harry was about to say "What is that supposed to mean?" When his Floo flared and a blonde head floated in his fireplace. "...Malfoy." He whispered, his head turning in the other apparitions direction only to find he'd gone again. Harry huffed, annoyed but turned and tuned back into Malfoy who was already speaking. 

"----and Mione thinks I should forgive you so you have my permission to come through to the Estate with your gifts." His words tapered off pompously. 

The raven blinked. "Beg your pardon? Gifts? What gifts?" 

"Were you even listening?" 

'Not really, no.' Harry only stared.

"Your apology gifts. You threw a fucking boulder sized book at me Potter. Your not getting forgiveness for anything less. I could have wound up with some serious problems, you realise? That was so fucking uncalled for." He hissed. 

He was loath to get Malfoy anything but the blonde was right...He shouldn't have done it; he was always told he had a terrible temper when it reared. He should probably get a handle on that. They were also busniness partners and something like this could potentionally cause some annoying issues. "Fine fine." He grumbled. "I'll be over for dinner. I'll cook you something really nice? How's that? I'll even bake you those pastries you adore." 

Draco hummed as if thinking but Harry knew he wouldn't be able to resist Harry's temptation. The blonde was always begging Harry to cook for him ever since he'd done so for their nineteenth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five.**

**Sylph’s aren’t real, are they?**

Weeks had gone by since the blonde wizard had forgiven Harry his temper. That wasn’t to say it hadn’t been an excruciating process, helped along **only** by the raven’s pastries and Hermione Granger’s fabulous mediating temperament.

Annoyingly, he had not seen the apparition of his former Professor since the rude barge-in of Harry’s home, accompanied by the frank commentary about his attitude, and he was almost **positive** the apparition had said something about **“** spanking **”**. Though, strangely, he had been seeing an unusually high level of a spectacularly diverse range of animals for the last few days.

He was now stuck at work, which had returned to normal. The book remained resting, once more, on the top shelf of the CEO office bookcase; ignored, forgotten because Harry was frankly too busy to pick it up as Lumen Alley’s Owl Industries had entered its busiest season without his consent and they needed absolutely **all** hands on deck.

You would have thought that the rather strange topic of Harry seeing **“** Sylphs **”** would have been broached in one of many tediously **“** lovey **”** conversations between Malfoy and Hermione, but alas; it had apparently not come up, at all in private conversation, until today. Because the raven was now forced to rear back into his office chair with his best friend’s intense face inches from his own.

“Hermione.” He breathed, closing his eyes in agony from an immediate pounding headache as he scrubbed down the side of his face tiredly because he’d gotten little sleep in the last two days. “I am not hallucinating. I am not going mental.” He glared at the blonde that stood in the doorway, arms crossed with a look of disbelief on his annoyingly pointy face. “I am taking my meds. There is nothing, _beyond the usual_ , wrong with me.” He clarified as he stood, forcing her to quickly retreat.

The brunette had come into the office as he was taking a quick snack break; she’d evidently decided to have lunch with her boyfriend today. **He** had been relaxing into the soft upholstery with a bottle of Butterbeer and a fantastic pastry gifted from one of the **sweetest** and the most gorgeous and **incredibly** manipulative new employees; Harry’d bet the man was in Slytherin a few years back, no doubts. He couldn’t for the life of him remember the man’s name now however, but he knew he’d just let him go home early.

The blonde would **hate** that when he found out. Harry suddenly smirked before wiping it from his features at the immediate worried frown that graced Hermione’s beautiful features. “Sorry. Hermione, look. I am okay. Okay?” He said lamely, sheepishly smiling at her and grabbing her hands. “I’m fine. Really. I’m extremely tired and I’m fucking starving, but I am absolutely fine, and Mal—Draco, is back now so I can go and have a proper lunch to settle my stomach. I’ll eat a nice healthy salad, how’s that?”

‘And probably take an expensive Headache reliever.’ He thought to himself.

“You should go see Dean, Harry.”

Harry immediately scowled at this. “Why?”

Snort. “Because Thomas is a Healer. He’s **your** Healer, and you’ve been seeing SYLPHS.” The blonde expressed as he shut the door firmly and without even a word, warded it from potential eavesdroppers.

“What’s that got to do with seeing Dean?” He grouched.

“Because obviously, you need to speak with him. Increase your meds or something. I thought about it and you simply couldn’t have **just** come across a Sylph; they don’t just **appear**. In fact, they probably don’t even fucking exist. Most of the books written about them, including that one.” He pointed to the bookcase. “Are written by storytellers. There’s nothing to say that they actually exist.”

‘And…Now he’s trying to deny they exist when he was so adamant about it when I mentioned I’d seen one in Diagon Alley?’ He questioned, staring silently, beginning to scowl as he crossed his arms in defiance and leaned now on the mahogany desk. “Screw you, Draco. I know what I saw. It **wasn’t** a fucking hallucination!!’ He shouted. “I’m going to lunch! Don’t fuck on my papers!” He yelled out as he stormed from the room, banging the door, and stomped through the office to the elevators where he savagely prodded the button.

“Potter!” Draco shouted furiously, turning red in indignation.

“Harry!” Hermione called after him as he disappeared around the doorway. He could tell she probably had her features set into an appalled expression. “Honestly” She flushed brilliantly red.

<<>><<>>

He went to lunch, grouching all the while even as he sat himself down at a spare table and chair in his café of the day, _The Ignatius_. It was a nice spot, right near the overgrowing hedge speckled with pretty little white flowers that smelt divine. He’d heard the place was becoming famous for their coffees and cakes.

He blinked, shifting his sight to take in a bigger surrounding when he heard something. What was that?

Flutter. Flutter.

Zip. Zip.

Wizz. Wizz.

A hummingbird?

His raven head tilted quizzically. Those aren’t native, right? Picking up his cooling coffee, which was rather good, he sipped slowly and stared across the way at a zipping little creature; it was a brilliant royal blue and emerald green. It’s body was aerodynamically small with pressed shining feathers and a rather long and forked tail. “Wow. Pretty.” He whispered. He’d never seen one before, at least, not on anything, but book covers at Flourish and Blott’s and perhaps the nature channel on his television in his muggle area coded flat.

He almost spat the vanilla flavoured iced coffee right across to the man at the other table when in a few short zipping bursts, the little bird was hovering over a larger pink flower in the hedge right next to him. “Oh. Hello little guy.” He breathed.

It appeared to stare at him, humming in one spot, beak far from the flower. For a few moments they simply stared at each other and right when Harry was beginning to suspect it might not **just** be a hummingbird, he heard his name.

His head snapped up and around only to click his tongue and bite the inside of his cheek before he could loudly swear in a very public area.

“Hiya Harry.”

“Dean. Don’t oft see you here. On your lunch break?” He hoped dearly. ‘In Diagon Alley, miles from where you work, for a spot of fucking coffee and cake?’ He hissed deep within, clearly he would not say that to one of his friends.

“Actually…”

‘Great.’ He tried not to huff as the taller chocolate skinned man invited himself to the vacant white wire-framed courtyard chair.

“How are you Harry?” He asked.

“Fine.” The raven hissed, hand clenching on the paper coffee mug.

“Doing your meditations? Your exercises? Taking all your medications? I haven’t seen you in such a long time. I sometimes feel like you’re trying to avoid me. I’m here to help you, remember?” He smiled lightly.

Harry only cringed and grumbled a, “Yes” to everything. Because **yes** , he was actually avoiding Dean Thomas, his old school mate, and his self-appointed Healer because when a friend from school becomes a Healer, you go see a person you trust. Right? The man frequently annoyed him though, which was odd if he thought about how much **LESS** Malfoy annoyed him.

‘Ah, I see. Good, good. How about after your lunch we head back to Mungo’s and we do a brief full body examination, just see if anything’s changed recently, you know since you haven’t been by in a while?” He was still smiling that smile the one that made Harry wonder if the dark-skinned man thought it made him more approachable.

Harry scowled. It didn’t. “No.”

“Beg your pardon?” The voice rose in abrupt shock. Some other patron’s turned around before realising Harry Potter was sitting behind them and perhaps they shouldn’t be listening, so turned back around after Harry’s eyes narrowed at them.

“No.” He stressed the one syllable.

The Healer blinked back at him. The hummingbird zipped and whirled in the background, dipping its beak into the sweet nectar of the pretty blushing flower by the raven’s elbow, but no one else seemed to care a rare bird was in the vicinity. It appeared to be somewhat interested in the conversation, though that could have been Harry’s imagination completely. He snorted anyway. “Look. I am perfectly healthy thank you. There is nothing new to show you, Dean, and whatever Hermione **or** Malfoy may have asked of you or told you. Just forget it.” He stood then, ignoring the grating screech of the chair legs on the cobbled café courtyard.

He left, pushing past customers waiting in a line for their orders. He disregarded when the Healer quickly rushed to follow his footsteps, or when the little bird suddenly appeared not that far beyond the Healer.

He watched, aggravated, through the glass of storefronts as the odd pair followed him all the way back to Owl Industries; it was a long hike to Lumen Alley, but he wanted to walk off the substantially proportioned delicious cake from the café. He huffed when they followed him right into the white-stoned building and right into the busy office space, and into the CEO headquarters.

His tanned features were a steadfast scowl as he crossed his arms and dropped into a vacant tan leather armchair. “I hate you both.” He growled.  
  
“Harry…” Hermione frowned, she looked somewhat frazzled, her hands pressing down both her bushy hair and her rumpled skirt. His scowl grew darker; they really **hadn’t** fucked on his papers, right? He glared at her, grinding his teeth.

“Potter, please tell us you weren’t rude as fuck to Dean.” He said this as though he knew it was impossible that Harry hadn’t been, since Dean seemed to have followed the idiot back to the office. A resigned sigh vibrated through a hand that palmed his face and rubbed around his mouth as he stood from where his bum had been resting on the desk and advanced towards Dean, to apologise most likely, and reached to shut the door on their inquisitive office staff.

Before he could voice the apology on the raven’s behalf, or **actually** shut the door, a few things happened all at once. First, the door slammed shut and the lock clicked into place.

They all blinked. “What the?” Draco uttered, his hand clenching into a fist and retreating, dropping down to his side as he frowned fiercely. They turned to Harry; the raven stared back at them.

“Well **I** didn’t do it.” He grumped.

The second thing to happen was the large storybook flying from the shelf to smack loudly on the polished wooden floorboards and opened itself, a wind ferociously flipping the pages until it was still. Harry leaned forwards from the chair, emerald eyes focused on the lyrical words that flowed in green ink down the pale intricately inked page. Without thinking Harry started reading them, he was down the last word on the page before anyone caught up to what was happening; in milliseconds, he had Malfoy’s hand around his mouth, muffling his words and his irritatingly high shrieking voice telling him to “SHUT THE FUCK UP POTTER!!” right before two other things happened.

The windows flew open, banging on their golden hinges, rushing in the frigid air before anyone could **attempt** to close them; which they refused to do and the lighting fixtures began flickering and putting themselves out until they found themselves in darkness and Harry **found himself shivering as a deep voice whispered breathless into the shell of his ear**. “Ah. Bless you Potter. I revere your naivety, I really do.” Harry’s whole body jerked, now on it’s feet, his shoes on their points as a hand was encircled around his throat, teeth nipped the very tip of his ear and a wet tongue swiped down the nape of his neck, around the long fingers that pressed deeply, bruising but not choking; his neck seared with heat.

“Fuck!” He swore, his eyes wide just as everyone else’s. He couldn’t seem to move, though he had apparently moved from the armchair without his knowledge. His heart felt like it was about to beat right out of his chest, it was beating so hard.

“Se—uh—Professor?” Draco wheezed, his hand to his chest.

The raven couldn’t help but stare back at the blonde and say, “See. I wasn’t fucking lying or having any fucking hallucinations you Tosser” before the fingers around his neck tightened and he took a gasp, right as the other arm, which he had no idea had been until this point wound around his abdomen and a head dropped to his shoulder. He swallowed.

“Watch your language, Pet. You should have a better grasp of the English language than that, and certainly more manners now that you’re older. Perhaps I **will** spank you later? Hm?’

Harry shivered, trying to step away.

“Ah uh. Come back here.”

The raven felt an intense frigid magic for a moment before he found himself turned around and his face pressed tightly against Snape’s chest. He yelped but couldn’t help burying his nose into the dark overcoat; it smelt…really nice.

It was woodsy. A bit on the cold side but chocolatey.

“How?” Hermione uttered, her hand covering her mouth muffling the words.

Snape seemed to hear her just fine, though Harry’s ears had become somewhat fuzzing in the span of a few seconds. His head felt a bit muddy, his lids felt quite heavy; that’d odd. His body swayed slightly, the only thing seemingly keeping him on his feet was the older man’s tight one armed embrace. “A rather complicated story I’m afraid. One I am not all that eager to reiterate right this minute. In fact, I would much prefer to spend the next few hours with this idiot…”He whispered down, muffling words into the dark mass that was the raven’s soft fresh smelling head.

Harry’s hands tightened in the man’s coat with an almost inaudible squeak and a, “Fuuuck” that droned, jumbling into the fabric beneath his mouth right before he fell unconscious.

“Ah. Begging your pardon, but I believe I’ve some business to take care of that I’ve been very eager to find the last six agonising years.” In but seconds, the apparition of a man longed thought dead scooped up Harry Potter and was gone in a misted whirlwind of ice, snow, and chilly air.

Harry’s friends swearing was the last thing Severus caught before he completely whisked them back to Potter’s barely guarded home.

He chuckled.


End file.
